


“How to Dismantle a Government Within 31 Days” by Edward Elric

by Eissel



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Crack Crossover, Gen, In which Ed is forced into going to Hogwarts and he doesn't like it one bit, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Post-Promised Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:14:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eissel/pseuds/Eissel
Summary: “What the fuck do you mean I have to go to the wizard school?” Ed asked, ready to throw Mustang out the window, military regulations be damned.“Some of us have actual jobs to get back to Fullmetal.” Mustang continued on, that insufferable smirk painted over his face. When he was done speaking, Ed was gonna deck him one, he swore to Truth. “Besides, this is where you shine the best, right in the middle of the thick of things. If you even do your job and expedite, you might even finish ahead of schedule!”Oh, Ed would show that bastard “ahead of schedule” alright.
Relationships: Edward Elric & Harry Potter
Comments: 59
Kudos: 795





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [snipers solve 99% of all problems](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20644262) by [silentwalrus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentwalrus/pseuds/silentwalrus). 



> Notes: This fic is going to be updated daily for the month of October in honor of it being Fictober! (RIP my computer and my hands) I hope you enjoy! Additionally, this fic is an AU of "snipers solve 99% of all problems" starting from Chapter 12 on because I was really curious about what would happen if Roy actually took Moody up on that offer to send Ed to Hogwarts, so expect shenanigans, lots and lots of shenanigans.
> 
> October 1st prompt: “No, come back!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the updated version of Chapter 1 to fix up plotholes + mistakes! For anyone that’s new to this fic, I started it for the Fictober challenge back in October, the way I fulfill those prompts vacillates between using the prompt in a line of dialogue or framing the chapter around it in some way, it really isn’t that consistent, I assure you. Also for anyone that's new, this fic diverges from snipers at around Chapter 12!
> 
> October 1st Prompt: “No, come back!”

The entire mission was turning out to be a clusterfuck, and they hadn’t even spent a whole day on the other side of the Divide yet. Firstly, some clerk had misfiled  _ everything _ from the wizard’s liaison, causing their departure to be delayed by 2 weeks or so while everything was sorted out and reorganized,  _ secondly _ , it turned out that the wizards had just up and decided to send the target _ back to school _ , like **that** was in any way a good idea,  _ thirdly _ , they already had a foreign government breathing down their necks, and technically the op had even’t begun yet.

Ed pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off a stress headache, an action he felt that he was going to have to get  _ very _ acquainted with in the near future just based off of his interactions with the bouquet of idiots in front of him. 

“Let me see if I have everything correct.” Mustang said, eyes narrowed in that particular way they always did when he wanted to bitch and complain, but simply couldn’t because of “propriety” or whatever. “Ignoring the mistake on our side that caused this operation to begin so late,  _ during that time _ , the target was compromised— by your own man— and nearly killed, and in an attempt to defend himself via creatures sent by the government. When you managed to extract him, you brought him here to this...” He paused, as though he was trying to think up an euphemism for “health hazard that should’ve been compounded by the city 50 years ago” “...Safe house...” Which is  _ not _ a description Ed would’ve chosen for this dump, but hey, if Mustang wanted to waste his time on being  _ nice _ to the whackjobs, Ed wasn’t gonna waste his energy on trying to stop him.

Hawkeye and Hughes could do that. 

Someone, one of the wizards, made a little fake cough as they tried to interrupt, but Mustang continued, clearly having gotten into a stride. “The target was then angry with your leadership because you prevented him from conversing with his friends, and did not inform him of their whereabouts? He was then informed that he could not participate in any of your vigilante activities, and  _ do _ stop me if I have any of my facts wrong,” Ed had to stop himself from laughing at the sheer amount of sarcasm Mustang managed to shove into one word. He had to admit, when the bastard was using that tone on other people it was always amusing to watch them struggle to not strangle him. “Despite having fought against this Voldemort character at least once per year for the past four years.”

“Your big bad guy is named Voldemort?” Ed asked, the name finally registering in his head. “What the fuck? Is that supposed to be scary or something? Do all megalomaniacs get their ‘big scary name’ from the exact same playbook or some shit?”

“Fullmetal, his name was  _ in the report _ .”

“You mean the report that Hakuro’s man misplaced? The one  _ I never got to read because it was lost for 2 weeks bastard? _ ” Aha! There it was, the Mustang-patened:  _ Please-shut-the _ **_-fuck_ ** _ -up-Fullmetal-before-I-roast-you _ glare. He gave Mustang a shit-eating grin, really, the man should know his modus operandi by now, he shouldn’t be rising to Ed’s bait if he didn’t want to be ribbed back. 

“Moving on...” Mustang ground out, “After doing all of that, you then sent him off to trial, a trial, I may add, that was potentially rigged to send him to jail where he could’ve easily been disposed of. By some miracle you managed to get him out of  _ that _ situation unscathed, and now you’ve decided to send him to school. Do I have all of it right?”

Beardy smiled. “You have most of it correct.” Which was almost certainly code for:  _ Stop pointing out the flaws in my plans _ . Well, tough luck for Beardy, when Mustang got on a roll, he didn’t stop until he hit rock bottom, and judging by the lack of a triumphant smirk on his face, he hadn’t hit there yet, so Beardy was just gonna have to live with it. 

“The question now, is where we go from here.” Hughes interjected, who clearly lived to be the ever genial contrast from Mustang’s “scorch it all and salt the earth” personality. Ed was sure that they’d planned it out in advance using their little secret system of glances and nods and shit, which meant that he could sit back and watch the fireworks fly.

It was always morbidly entertaining watching people wander into the traps Hughes set up, given that it usually entailed someone running head-on into Mustang’s “General Sadism” persona.

“Well, we cannot put Hairy’s life on hold forever. Besides, term will be starting soon, and it would be suspicious if he was missing from hog warts when he was already present at the trial.” Beardy stated all sage-like, as though he was  _ very sorry _ that he was going to send the fucking  _ kid _ off to get killed by magic terrorists, but  _ oh no _ it just  _ had _ to be done to keep up the masquerade or some shit.

“His life’s gonna be put  _ on hold _ a lot longer if he gets killed.” Ed pointed out. “You can’t get someone else low profile to pose as him? Or hell, just lie! Say he got himself fucking kidnapped or some shit, or that he ran away because you two had a falling out, there are  _ so many options _ you can take here besides sending him back to the fuckin’  _ school. _ ”

“He’s right Albus—” Pirate says, and Ed lets out a sigh, at least  _ one _ of the wizards had a  _ brain cell _ , even if it was the one with the creep pervert eye. “Acquitted or not, potter is going to have eyes on him, and we don’t know when voldemort will make his move.” His perv eye swiveled over to stare at Ed, and he had to suppress the urge to put like, 50 layers of concrete wall between him and that violation of personal privacy. “So, it would only make sense to have someone on potter, to keep an eye on him and prevent… accidents.” 

No. Fucking  _ no. _ Pirate did  _ not _ just insinuate what Ed  _ thought _ he was insinuating, right? He’d just misheard right? He cast a pleading look over at Mustang, was met with an appraising one, and Ed can fucking _ feel  _ every single hair on his arms stand up as he does so. 

That isn’t Mustang pretending to give Pirate the time of day, it’s nowhere fucking  _ close _ to the realm of “humoring”, no that’s Mustang’s “it-may-not-be-a-good-idea-but-fuck-it-let’s-try-it-anyways” look, and Ed knows better than to be even in the same damn  _ state _ as Mustang when he starts casting that look around.

“When does the school officially open?”

“In 2 days.” Beardy replies.

And just as Ed is about to defenestrate himself out the nearest not-likely-to-give-him-tetanus-window, Mustang opens his big dumb bastard mouth and says with a genial smile to the room: “That sounds doable.”

Mustang is getting a fist to the face as soon as the fucking wizards exit, this Ed swears upon pain of him getting smacked with Winry’s wrench. In any case, Pirate makes this little wide-eyed look, like he didn’t expect Mustang to actually  _ agree _ , and Ed cannot  _ believe _ that he’s actually agreeing with one of these fucks on something. Beardy on the other hand looks like he was just told that he could raid Accounting’s pantry after they had just stocked up. It’s not a look that gives Ed any sense of comfort at least.

To make things worse, Hughes is giving him one of those “for the love of all that is good, please keep your damn mouth shut” stares, like Ed doesn’t already  _ know _ that Mustang would publicly flay him alive for interfering with his plans. While he would love nothing more than to make a scene if only so that the wizards themselves tell Mustang to make someone sit on Ed and keep him  _ here _ and out of the Truth-damn  _ high school _ , he also knows that making a scene carries with it the absolutely likely scenario that Mustang would fucking  _ lecture him _ in front of the  _ damn wizards _ .

So no, Ed would sit and stew and generally direct a look pissedwards at Mustang, but he would shut his damn mouth until he could  _ really _ let Mustang have it.

* * *

“Well, you heard them Fullmetal, time to get you packed.”

“What the fuck do you mean I have to go to the wizard school?” Ed asked as he stood up, ready to throw Mustang out the window, military regulations be  _ damned _ . The wizards had now all departed for wherever the fuck, Havoc was busy babysitting, Hughes had swanned off to  _ who knows where with Hawkeye _ , and Ed could now  _ really _ go to town on Mustang’s stupid decision.

“Some of us have actual jobs to get back to Fullmetal.” Mustang continued on, that insufferable smirk painted over his face. When he was done speaking, Ed was gonna deck him one, he  **swore** to Truth. “Besides, this is where you shine the best, right in the middle of the thick of things. If you even do your job and expedite, you might even finish ahead of schedule!”

Oh, Ed would show that bastard “ahead of schedule” alright. He pointed at Mustang, directly between the eyes. 

“You are going to  _ regret _ this Mustang, when I get back, you are never going to have a  _ second _ of peace, you fucking  _ hear me _ ?” The General merely grinned.

“Oh  _ no _ ,  **do** come back Fullmetal, don’t go!” He mocked, leaning back in the chair in that weird hovering motion he did when he didn’t fully trust the item below him to  _ not _ be a biological hazard. “Look, Edward.” He said, voice dropping the mockery and eyes boring directly into Ed’s. “I don’t like it either, but this really is where you shine best. According to the adults, the kid gets into confrontations yearly with the target. I doubt you’ll let it get that long—” He mentioned offhandedly at Ed’s apoplectic look, “In fact I fully expect you to be back by the end of the month— However being in the thick of things is your specialty.” Mustang shrugged. “This isn’t anything new for you Fullmetal, plus this really is  _ your _ op.”

“You just want an excuse to go poke your little bastardy fingers into the local politics shit-pie.” Mustang’s nose wrinkled slightly at the image, and Ed grinned back at him. “Go on, admit it, while I’m off doing all the actual work, you’re going to be scheming.” Mustang sighed.

“Alright Fullmetal, if it makes you happy.” He made an exaggerated mock bow, and then spread his hands out wide. “I admit it, I want to study up on the local situation.”

“Yeah, yeah. You get to play bureaucrat, I get shit done, same old same old. Just a shame Hawkeye has to be stapled to your side, if she were with me, I’d bet I’d be in and out of that place in a week tops.”

“A shame that is, truly.” Under the sarcasm, Ed didn’t miss the actual sincerity behind the words. Mustang wanted to leave this shithole just as much as Ed did. Okay no, Ed had to amend that thought first. He wanted to leave the wizarding part of this fucked up place, because the  _ normal _ side seemed pretty cool, from what he had gotten a glimpse of before walking in. After all, no place that made Central City’s uptown look like the boonies could be all that bad.

Mustang made to get up and leave, but Ed stopped him.

“Hey, bastard, question.”

“Yes Edward?”

“What happens if I accidentally end up rolling their government?” Mustang rolled his eyes like the question was beneath him.

“Well, that’s what I’ll be staying behind for.”

Okay, so Mustang was still getting decked, but suddenly this mission was a  _ whole _ lot more tolerable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed: So I get to fuck up their government?  
> Mustang, filing his nails and thoroughly having checked the fuck out from this shit: Yeah, sure, just, y’know, do the actual objective along with that too I guess  
> Ed: Suddenly this mission isn’t half that bad


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 2 Prompt - “That’s the easy part” 
> 
> Ed's reactions to magic being "freak shit" are just Maes' reactions to alchemy turned up 10 notches and with added cursing, and I think that's beautiful.

After  _ that _ riveting conversation, Ed is passed around like a particularly awful bowl of candy to Hawkeye, then Hughes, all so that he can be thoroughly briefed on what he might encounter while at the high school. This of course, would have never been necessary if those  _ damn files _ had never been misplaced, and as soon as this op is finished, Ed makes a note to hand deliver a file cabinet to Hakuro. 

Delivered via alchemical propulsion of course.

The briefing is nice and all, especially since normally Ed goes into shit like this with jack and or shit, but as much as Ed trusts Hawkeye and Hughes, they’re dealing with real, honest to Truth,  _ magic _ here, and the adult wizards all seem some sort of flavor of batshit, and hence can’t be relied on to give any sort of  _ accurate _ information.

(As much as he complained about not being actually able to read the files before they set out, Ed actually  _ had _ taken the time to skim over some, and the information contained therein read like a particularly sloppy 10-cenz novel he’d find in the mess, not like an actual report, so forgive him if he didn’t trust the info gathered by this group of daisies)

A lack of accurate info from the adults means going to the kids and interrogating them. Ed really wants to fling himself back Amestriswards, considering that he’s never played nice with other people  _ his age _ , let alone wet behind the ears wizardlings who don’t seem to understand the lovely concept of  _ sit still and let your ass stay babysat _ .

But info is info, and Ed starts on his little trek to go find the kids, in particular Hairy since he was the one who had the hotline to Head Terrorist HQ in his brain plus the whole resurrection shit— and  _ oh boy _ Ed had forgotten about the resurrection shit. That particular little nugget  _ really  _ chafed at Ed’s sensibilities, and he was going to wring the details out of the little fucker before they had to get to the high school and risked being overheard by more than just Lord fuckin’ Voltaism. 

Kicking a random door open, Ed looked around inside and spotted a  _ lot _ of red hair, and where there was a lot of red hair, the kids usually were too. Far past giving a shit about ‘manners’, Ed walked over to the gaggle and sorted out the kid he was looking for and pulled him back from the crowd. “You. We need to talk.”

“Talk? About what?” Ed glanced at the kid, who was looking  _ way too  _ put out over this shit. Granted, Ed was in the military, so he didn’t exactly have a leg to stand on, but he thought that kids were all over soldiers visiting their schools and shit. Sure, Ed didn’t look the part, but he still had the rank and all the other important crap. Plus, he was here to put a stop to the terrorism,  _ not _ babysit the kid, no matter what Pirate or Beardy thought. 

“Yo, cool it. I just need to know what I need to expect at your high school.” The kid had a good obstinate face, Ed would give him that, too bad there was no one on the planet able to out stubborn the Fullmetal Alchemist. “Look, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I get out of your hair and the sooner your little terrorist problem gets resolved.”

“Terrorism is  _ not _ a little problem!” Ed squinted, which kid was that? Oh, Smartypants, he’d have to question her too while he was at it. “You-Know-Who—” Ed wanted to bash his head in, how was it that the guy who named himself  _ Father _ had a better appellation than a  _ wizard _ ? “—killed at least one-hundred of people in the last war!” Wait, wait, that couldn’t be right.

“Hundred? As in the number 100? Like one-zero-zero one-hundred?” Was it possible to die from high expectations? This Lord Volutin guy, had killed  _ at least _ a hundred people? Was that a personal number? A collective one? If it was the second one, Ed was going to drop this conversation and hand the problem off to Mustang to take to the local cops or something because serial killers were  _ not _ in his jurisdiction. Again, maybe it was just high expectations, but if Amestris was good at anything, it was alchemy and war, and the application of alchemy to war, so Ed was pretty sure he knew what the numbers for a typical war looked like, let alone one which had its numbers boosted up via adding  _ magic _ to the mix.

That then caused an interesting series of questions to fly through Ed’s mind. Did the number only seem high to these fetuses because the wizarding population was just  _ that  _ low that 100 people dying could seriously threaten its ability to sustain itself? Was the word ‘war’ just being incorrectly translated? Did Armstrong send Mustang out here knowing that this was a job better left to the local cops because she wanted to waste his time? Ed would almost put money on the third one, except that if Armstrong wanted to waste Mustang’s time she would’ve just left him to deal with the Brass, not do this round-a-bout shit. 

Smartypants nodded, and for a brief second Ed wondered if he had spoken his thoughts aloud before realizing that she was responding to his question. That meant that the numbers  _ did _ translate over, and he wasn’t getting garbled nonsense on his end from a problem in the translation rock. That… That was just great, really, of course  _ he _ had to be the one who had to deal with the trumped up serial killer moonlighting as a terrorist. Dropping Hairy’s collar, Ed grabbed a chair and sat on it. 

“Great, anyways, I need to know everything you can recall about him and his flunkies so that I can take care of the problem.” Pulling out his journal, he gestured to Hairy. “You, start speaking, and make it  _ succinct _ , don’t waste time by beating around the bush.” One of the redheads— Not-A-Twin?— bristled when Ed called Hairy “you”, but he didn’t give a shit and continued to gesture impatiently when the kid stared at him blankly. 

“Where do you want me to start?” He eventually bit out. 

“Earliest you can.” 

* * *

When he’s finished with his impromptu interrogation, Ed has several pieces of information that his only course of action to do with is simply: Give to Mustang, let him sort it out.

Especially with everything concerning Hairy’s 4th year with the insane tournament thing. He was still trying to wrap his head around how  _ that one _ was legal. Hell, he was still trying to figure out how the  _ school _ was still operating.

Walking into the room they’ve all arbitrarily decided to call their base of operations, Ed knocks on the wall a few times to alert Hughes and his team of his presence, what with them being deep into their “Intel Team Stupor” as they work on their respective projects. 

“Hey Ed! What did you find out? Anything useful?” Hughes asks as he breaks himself away from his work.

“There’s a stack of newspapers that’s somewhere in the house, hell if I know if those would be of any use to you.” His face falls, clearly having cottoned on to the fact that Ed found exactly nothing useful from the kids, and he’d probably have to go pry it out of them himself later. Or worse, he’d have to pry it out of the adults. 

“Putting aside the obvious for now, what did they tell you?”

“Well, the school security is incredibly lax, though if that’s on purpose or not isn’t clear since all of the incidents caused by said poor security have different origin points and motives tied to them. Their Lord Viremia fucker seemingly only attacks at the end of the year, though that might not be true since the sample size is practically non-existent, apparently the adults fed them some bullshit line about how he existed only as a soul for a while which is impossible.”

“Didn’t  _ you _ exist as ‘only a soul’ for a while there Ed?” Hughes asked, the look of genuine curiosity on his face being the only thing stopping Ed from transmuting his uniform puke green.

“No.” He said roughly. “I turned myself into a  _ Philosopher’s Stone _ for a while, when I was trying to  _ get inside _ an organic construct which was being sustained by Philosopher’s Stones. Two entirely different things.” The pained smile on Hughes’ face after that explanation made Ed grin, it wasn’t often he got one over on the Intel Officer. “In any case, I don’t have the time to wait around for a whole damn year twiddling my thumbs. I’ve got shit to do.”

“And it  _ is _ your job to expedite.” Mustang said as he entered. Ed scowled at him.

“You know what would  _ help _ with this so-called expediting? Not sending me to the fucking  _ high school. _ ”

“Treat it as intel training Fullmetal and suck it up, going to a high school for a month won’t kill you.”

“Being  _ physically present _ at the high school is the fucking easy part! Hell, defeating Lord Varigator is the fucking  _ easy part _ . I don’t deal with kids, Mustang! That’s not in my job description!”

“However, dealing with civilians  _ is _ in your job description, and considering how you  _ normally _ interact with civvies, this might actually be a chance for you to practice your goddamn people skills so everyone in Amestris stops thinking that you’re actually just a very tall feral  _ chihuahua _ Edward.” Truth, but Ed really hated the way Mustang could make him 11 again, it was  _ such _ bullshit! Not even Hughes’ fucking dad voice could make him feel like that, the bastard shouldn’t have this much power over him.

“It’s a magic high school Mustang.” Ed tried, hoping that the General would reconsider. 

“And you once punched out a man holding onto the power of God, I’m sure you can handle a few teenagers.”

“I’d worry less about Ed handling the teenagers, and more about how mentally and physically intact said teenagers will be once he’s done with the mission.” Hughes interjected, a wide, shit-eating grin on his face. 

“One day I’m going to get Hawkeye to listen in on the shit you fuckers pile on me.  _ One fucking day. _ ” He threatened.

“Sure Fullmetal, and maybe one day you’ll grow taller than 5’5.” Mustang said, because apparently he hadn’t had  _ his _ fill of pain for the day.

* * *

Ed wakes up early the next morning, partly out of habit, and partly because he wants at least 10 liters of coffee in him before he’s spirited away to the high school. Or, rather, as they had found out last night (to  _ everyone’s annoyance _ ), the train station where he’d board the train to said high school.

It was a picture of almost hilarious inefficiency, inefficiency so awful that even the top brass would weep at the sheer scale of it: the wizards could  _ teleport _ . Ed had both seen  _ and _ experienced it firsthand within the fucking like, day and a half he’d been in this hellhole. Why were they using pleb tier transportation like  _ trains,  _ when they could warp themselves across the planet and back within the blink of an eye?

Well, one reason could be that they couldn’t, being that said teleportation could be  _ way _ more energy prohibitive than it appeared to be, which certainly seemed to be the case (and the less said about the philosophical quandary borne from disassembling your entire body, including, assumedly,  _ your soul _ , the better) what with the  _ literal radiation _ that was coming off of the wizards in  _ waves _ whenever they did their little teleportation tricks. 

Honestly, if the wizards themselves weren’t so fucking  _ awful _ , Ed would request a leave of at least half a year in this place just to study their “magic” shit. He could almost fucking see it now, if he managed to crack whatever was powering their magic and reverse engineer it, Amestris would never have energy problems again, hell, forget Amestris, the entire fucking  _ world _ would never have energy problems again, and that was just if he managed to break the formula behind the teleportation down into its constituent parts, who the fuck knows what else he could solve given some time and less idiotic test sub—  _ volunteers. _

Dragging himself into the kitchen, he rummages around in it, trying to find something to eat. In doing so, he runs almost smack into Hawkeye, who saves them both (well, relly, it would just be Ed bearing all of it) the embarrassment by deftly redirecting him. Instead of running into her, Ed just ends up walking into a table and slumping over, remaining in that position until someone places a mug filled with what Ed  _ assumes _ is regular coffee, but could also be pure concentrated  _ caffeine _ .

Honestly, considering the personnel stationed at both Central  _ and _ Eastern Command operated, he would place the probability of his drink being either at a 50/50 chance. If it was the latter, he was even considering thanking whoever did it, because it would at least allow him to operate on the same level as the wizards without going insane for at  _ least _ the next half a day, if not more.

Sure, he’d have the  _ mother _ of all crashes once it wore off, but by Truth it would be fucking worth it just for the sheer feeling of  _ not giving a shit _ it would provide him. Shit, if it  _ was _ the pure stuff, he wondered if he could nab Mustang’s mug and combine the two— fuck, it would probably immedietly slingshot his mind directly into a higher dimension or 5, but it would be  _ so fucking worth it _ .

Moreover, Al wasn’t here to stop him, Hawkeye wouldn’t bother since she lived and died by the expression “not my circus, not my monkeys”, Mustang would sooner  _ actually eat a bullet _ than stop him from doing something that would easily net him a month’s worth of entertainment, and Hughes…

Well, okay, the intel officer might stop him, but that was only if Hughes even  _ could _ stop him in time. Taking a sip, his thoughts of possibly being able to summon the energy to deal with the fucking wizard children for more than 30 minutes instantly vanished. 

“Damnit, this is regular coffee.” Turning a baleful look over at Mustang, who merely shrugged and took a sip out of his own mug, Ed gave him the finger. “Bastard, you can’t give me this piss weak shit, you havta give me the good shit!”

“And have you bouncing off the walls until it's time for you to leave? No thank you Fullmetal, even we have our limits when it comes to dealing with your antics, let alone the people who don’t know you.”

“Get fucked Mustang, you just want to see me suffer.” To that, the bastard simply continued to drink from his mug, though Ed didn’t miss the small smirk Mustang aimed at him between sips.

Oh, he was  _ so _ going to alchemize the fucker’s uniforms a size and a half smaller before he left, it’d serve him right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hughes: Welcome to Intel Ed, enjoy your stay! First lesson of working in Intel: The newbie gets the shit jobs!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 3rd Prompt: "You did this?"
> 
> Just so you know, if by the end of this fic Hogwarts isn't a smoking crater, then it was simply due to an intervention by God because Ed sure as hell doesn't care if it gets wrecked.

When Ed arrives via the weird teleportation trick the wizards do, he feels like he’s been squeezed through a thin tube that’s been tied up into a pretzel shape. Up feels like it's down, his vision is just barely starting to register colors again, and he has the uncomfortable notion of not exactly knowing where the hell in space and time his body is, which isn't, you know,  _ good _ in any sense of the word.

If only that was the end of his magically caused problems, but it isn’t because the universe liked throwing Ed new buckets of bullshit to deal with when he had barely finished processing the last heap. So just as Ed is starting to  _ not _ feel like he had been wrung out by Armstrong, he watches as the gaggle of redheads disappear through a wall.

Edward isn’t religious, hasn’t ever been, even after meeting Truth and realizing that all “God” amounted to was just an omnipotent being that desired to watch the world burn; but at that moment he feels like marching back down to Liore and apologizing for ever disparaging the concept of “God” with the only thing stopping him from doing exactly that being the fucking smug  _ look _ Mustang would give him once he realized that Ed had basically thrown in the towel.

He wasn’t about to give the bastard that satisfaction, so he turned to the raggedly guy— Mustache— and pointed at the wall. “What the fuck?” Okay, that wasn’t coming out right, brain, try again. “How the fuck do I get through there.” Mustache blinked, like he was  _ surprised _ that Ed was still there.

“You just walk through. Actually, you may want to take it at a run.”

Ed had been through a lot of shit in his time on this Earth. The magically disappearing wall wasn’t even in the top  _ 50 _ when it came to weird shit he had experienced. Even so, the blunt, semi-condescending explanation nearly gave Ed an out to throw Mustache underneath one of the  _ normal _ trains. Nearly being the key word, vigilante or not, intelligence of a particularly sloppy ham sandwich or not, Mustache was still a civilian, and Ed had endured one too many lectures from Mustang on “not threatening civilians in public” to bother.

“Okay, gotcha. Anything  _ else _ useful you daisies want to tell me before I head off? Do I need to click my heels thrice and shout  _ abra kadabra _ or something?” And Ed did not know _ why Mustache fucking flinched _ when Ed said “abra kadabra”, did the fucking rock translate that incorrectly? Was it a fucking  _ slur _ in their wizard language or some shit? Ed would’ve questioned him, but he heard the distinct sound of a train whistle (guess even with magic semi-real walls sound could still escape, which  _ begged _ the question of what that wall was made of, or how their magic was interacting with it) and had to break it off.

Grabbing his suitcase, Ed decided to just walk up to the wall and go through, because holy  _ shit _ would it be embarrassing if he  _ ran into a fucking wall. _ No one in the unit would ever let him live that down. As he approached it, he reached out and knocked on the wall. And then he watched as his hand grabbed  _ thin air _ .

Mustang was going to owe him  _ so much _ when he was done here. No, scratch that, forget Mustang owing him,  _ Armstrong _ was gonna owe him, because, and he stressed this:  **_What the fuck._ **

When he had finally passed through the wall Ed blinked and found it intensely creepy just how much the station he was standing in now looked like the old Gran Station back in Central. Worse still was how everything looked like it had a film of rod wax gooped over it, which Ed realized was the hazy aura of… what  _ might _ have been qi…. manifesting here, which was… Well that was just fucking  _ great _ , Al was still in Xing, which meant that any observations Ed would make would have to wait until Al either hopped the Divide or Ed finished with his mission.

So  _ extra _ motive to expedite, fine by him.

The train whistle went off insistently again, and Ed hopped on, taking the steps two at a time. He hadn’t seen the kids anywhere on the platform, but then again he couldn’t see jack and or shit on the platform, so who the fuck knew where they were really. 

As he walked past the cabins, Ed caught a glimpse of majority red hair through one of the door windows, and quickly opened it, giving no regard to the shouted objections. 

“Where the fuck did you all disappear to?” Ed asked, dropping his suitcase with a  _ clunk _ . “Did you all manage to forget within the span of less than  _ 24 fucking hours _ the very clear orders from  _ your parents _ to stay by my side?” Now, this wasn’t exactly something Ed really gave a shit about, actually, if the kids continued to avoid him, the easier his job would be, however, letting the little fuckers know who exactly was Top Dog here was something that Ed wasn’t going to wait on establishing.

“Who are you?” Ed was about to tear whoever asked that asinine question a whole new asshole, and then realized he hadn’t heard that voice before. Actually, now that he was paying attention (and the weird rod wax smear shit had finally gone away… Another note for the journal), he realized that there were two whole new kids. 

“The name’s Edward Elric, call me Elric, I’m here to make sure this one—” he pointed at Hairy— “Doesn’t get his ass caught by any of your Dead Munchies or whatever.” That made the whole cabin start squawking, and Ed let them scream for a second before punching the wall to shut them up. Truth, what had he done  _ now  _ that had apparently offended them?

“You weren’t supposed to let anyone know about that!” Smartypants said, and Ed tried to think of a single time when Mustang had told him to keep his mouth shut about his op… And came up with nothing. Zip, zilich,  _ zero _ . What the fuck was she on about?

“I didn’t get any orders like that.” Hell, if Mustang  _ had _ given him any orders like that, he would’ve smashed a vase over the bastard’s head because you didn’t  _ keep the fucking target _ in the dark about their bodyguard detail, that was how you got dead bodyguards and  _ dead clients _ . In Amestris at least, maybe in wizard land they kept the mark in the dark, because why the fuck not. “Anyways, listen up, I don’t wanna be here probably as much as you all want me gone so you can enjoy your fucking school life or somesuch, so here’s how this is going to work. You don’t bother me, I don’t bother you, I mulch your verruca guy, we all leave happy.”

And the kids were giving him wall-eyes again, seriously,  _ what was up with this place _ . Ed aggressively sighed. “What now? And make it snappy, because I have some more questions for you, and they’re gonna take up a lot of time.” Hairy shared a look with Not-A-Twin and Smartypants before looking back at Ed.

“So you’re not going to be a torso defender?” He asked, and Ed had to do some staring himself as he tried to figure out what a  _ torso defender _ was before realizing that the fucking rock had probably mangled the word  _ bodyguard _ . 

“I’ve got better things to do than babysit you. You know, like trying to do the thing I was brought in for.” Ed said flippantly, and that seemed to get _all_ the kids rustled, but Ed didn’t have time for them and their concerns about Ed’s methods because they had info and he was gonna get it ASAP. “So, I need to know, how many kids are in your age group, do any of you have a map of this place, is there anyone doing night patrols, and besides the ones you told me about already, are there any _other_ monsters in this damn school?” Smartypants scowled, and Hairy and Not-A-Twin groaned. Not that he knew why they were doing that, even in the shittest of underfunded schools in Amestris, none of them had _actual_ fictional monsters attacking school kids on the yearly.

No, that was more of a century thing if Ed was being honest, what with the Homunculi and all. 

Even if they  _ were _ outliers.

“Hog warts—” And Ed was still wondering if that was supposed to be one word that the rock was mangling or two— “Uses house elves for labor.” Ed blinked and reached into his pocket to take out the stone again, because that couldn’t be right. 

House elves, if he was recalling correctly— and he was pretty damn sure he was— were the species of not-chimeras, including the one the jailbreak guy was using as his personal punching bag sans pay. Suddenly, the thought of temporarily extending the mission just to start a revolt was looking more attractive. 

“Say that again?” Smartypants repeated herself, and it looked like there wasn’t a problem with the rock. Ed suddenly felt like breaking things. Why did wizards have to do shit like this? Between the civil war apparently instigated over  _ consanguinity _ and the casual acceptance of  _ slavery _ (something that had been on its way out on the  _ sane _ side of the divide by the time  _ Xerxes _ was vanished off the face of the planet), Ed was going to “expedite” at fucking  _ light speed _ just so he could get out of this hellhole just a single picosecond faster.

“That’d be the easy part...” He muttered, his train of thought briefly snapping to how he would potentially be able to convince the not-chimeras to revolt. A letter back to Hughes and Jones would probably be in order as soon as he reached the school then, and  _ speaking of—  _ “How long’s this ride anyways?” 

“Dunno, few hours I’d guess.” Miss Redhead (and no, Ed would never refer to her as Gin ee, seriously, what were her parents  _ on _ ) said, and Ed again wondered if the rock was acting up and translating their time wrong. There was just… no way that a magical society that could  _ teleport _ was making school kids take train rides that lasted ‘a few hours’, right? That would be even more ridiculous than the concept of taking the train instead of teleporting directly there in the first place! At least there were halfway decent reasons Ed could use to justify the first decision, but there was  _ nothing _ , absolutely  _ nothing _ that could justify  _ this. _

That was a good question though.  _ Did _ wizards use the same measurements of time as Amestris did?

“Hour, like 60 minutes in an hour, or are we talking…?” Ed trailed off once he got the wall-eyed stares again. “Got it, got it, hours it is. And the rest of my questions? How many kids, and any of you have a map? Oh, and the patrols, need to know about those too.”

“Well, me and Moon—” Miss Redhead started, while Ed was reduced to staring again. Fucking  _ Moon?  _ Okay, forget his questions, he needed to confirm something first. 

“Stop, I need to ask Blondie there something.” 

“Yes?” 

“What’s your last name?”

“Love good.” Moon Lovegood, what a fuckin’ name. Well, while he was on the introductions. 

“And you?” He pointed at Pasty. 

“Nev ill long bottom.” Or maybe there  _ was _ a name that could beat out ‘hairy ceramics professional’. Shaking his head, Ed gestured for Miss Redhead to continue. 

“As I was saying, Moon and I are fourth years, so we’re separate from their number.” She pointed at Pasty, Hairy, Smartypants and Not a Twin. “I think there’s umn… 20 students in our year.” And now it was Ed’s turn for some wall-eyed, bug out staring, because  _ 20 students in one cohort _ ?

“And you all?” 

“Around 30.” Smartypants said. “Some people moved or dropped out, like Sally-Anne Perks, so it was probably a little higher back in first year.” Those numbers were giving Ed a migraine, forget the qi research, he was going to have to call up Central U and grab a geneticist just so he could have someone else confirm that these numbers were indicative of an extinction spiral. 

That then begged the question: If these  _ kids _ had population numbers of 30 and below, and they were supposedly born  _ after _ the war ended or just about around there, what were the initial population numbers, hell how many kids were in the years above them, what even  _ were _ the population numbers for their entire society? 

Suddenly it made a lot more sense as to why the little vigilante group was so small, because fucking hell, these people had a population that was probably on par with  _ Resembool, _ a fucking no-name town that was more like a village out in the ass-end of East Amestris. 

And that, was just about all Ed could take for the time being. He collapsed on an empty seat, ignoring the hardness of it, and started muttering fantasies of burning the whole government down and starting over to himself. “I am going to collect  _ so much _ fucking hazard comp for this shit, Truth and atoms I am going to bankrupt Mustang for this, this is so fucking  **_fucked._ ** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed: So their names are "Hairy Ceramics Professional", "Ron Weasel", "Her-my-own-knee Granary", "Gin-nee Weasel", "Moon Love good" and "Nev ill Long bottom"?  
> Ed: Well compared to that "Lord Voltaism" or whatever he calls himself almost seems normal.
> 
> (English Lesson Note: Grange, in Middle English meant granary (because I wasn't about to let Hermione off scot-free from the name mangling party))
> 
> Those of you with eagle eyes may have noticed that the term “Vaseline” was changed to “rod wax”, this is because while Vaseline is commonly considered the generic name for petroleum jelly, Vaseline was created out of the substance called “rod wax” which was a residue that could be found on oil rig pumps, and I figured that Amestris wouldn’t have coined the term “Vaseline” considering that it takes its name from two German and Greek words, and would have probably continued using the “rod wax” term instead. 
> 
> On an additional note, there’s a slight time related plot divergence that I didn’t correct for my own reasons, (re: Ron and Hermione being in the compartment when they were supposed to be at the Prefects meeting) but felt like I had to preemptively address :P 
> 
> Other additional fun fact: Ed’s use of “picosecond” would have been “Plank time” if the latter wasn’t so absolutely awkward to use as a measurement. As for yocto/zepto/atto/femto-seconds, I didn’t bother to use them since they weren’t as recognizable as picoseconds.


	4. Interlude - Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 4th prompt - “That didn’t stop you before”
> 
> It's interlude time, because Ed isn't the only character that's allowed to be a massive fucking bitch.

When Elric finally closed his eyes and drifted off, Harry let out a quick sigh, feeling as though a massive storm had just passed them all by via sheer luck. 

“The bloke— er, Elric,” Neville swiftly corrected himself, as though he were afraid that the blond soldier (and Harry was still doubtful on that front, how was a person like Elric even in the military) would spring up and start snarling at the mere mention of his presence via incorrect title. “He’s… Here to  _ kill _ You-Know-Who?” His face was pale as he spoke, a reaction that Harry found much more reasonable than Elric’s (and really, all the Unplottables by extension) unflappable confidence. 

“That’s what Dumbledore said.” Hermoine asserted. “Apparently he’s dealt with things like this before, his commanding officer said so, right Harry?” Thinking back to the…  _ tense _ meeting from the other day, Harry confirmed with a slight nod. 

“Commanding officer? So Elric’s a soldier?” Neville asked, “Where’s he from anyways?”

“Some place called Amestris.” Ron said as he polished off a pasty. “It’s in the Unplottables somewhere, the way Elric makes it sound though, you’d think their government solves all its problems by using the Unforgivables.” Hermione wrinkled her nose a little at the reminder, while Harry found himself deep in thought.

It wasn’t that Ron was wrong persay, Elric had made it quite clear that everyone in the group he came with could likely snap all of them in half like toothpicks without blinking an eye (bar his commanding officer who seemed more like a well groomed showdog than any sort of authority), but rather that he was missing a crucial detail or two. Elric never mentioned magic whenever he mentioned killing Voldemort, the blond seemed to abhor the very idea of magic anyways, and he had never seen any of the Unplottables use a wand. He had also seemed perturbed by the fact that he was strongarmed into killing Voldemort, having objected to the idea until presented with the sheer evil that Voldemort had wrecked across England in the War. 

“Don’t you all think something’s strange about this?” Harry asked, frowning as he stared at Elric’s prone body. Everyone turned to look at him, and he continued on, happy to see that his friends were actually paying him attention instead of ignoring him outright like they had for most of the summer. Well, that was more Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, but the fact that Luna and Neville were making the effort to actually listen and not just brand him crazy made him feel a bit better. “The Ministry doesn’t believe that Voldemort is back, but Dumbledore manages to get a bunch of soldiers over here to help with fighting him, without the Ministry noticing?”

“There are a lot of powerful people on Dumbledore’s side Harry.” Hermione reminded. “Like Madame Bones, I’m sure they could have managed to get Elric and his unit over without too much notice.”

“But they couldn’t rescue me from my trial?” Harry argued. 

“Didn’t Madame Bones help you though Harry?” Neville interjected. 

“Yes, but if Dumbledore had the power to sneak in a bunch of soldiers, don’t you think he could’ve also done something like what Elric suggested and faked my death, or, bloody hell, just stopped the trial completely? It’s not as though he’s let the Ministry stop him before!”

“Harry!” Hermione interrupted, scandalized. “That’s… That would be wrong! Those are tactics the Death Eaters would use! Even going past that, that’s  _ beyond _ immoral and unethical...”

“Harry is right though ‘Mione.” Ron said as he leaned back, eyes darting to the door as he spoke, like he was afraid he’d be overheard. “I’m not saying that it wouldn’t be bad or anything,” he tried to soothe her nerves, “But it  _ would _ have saved Harry a lot of unnecessary stress...”

“And it wouldn’t have put him in the public eye so soon.” Neville muttered. “The  _ Prophet _ was plastered with articles calling you the ‘Boy-Who-Lied’.” Hermione still looked conflicted, and Harry sighed, eager to drop the topic before it became an argument, though he still wanted one last thought to be said:

“Alright, alright, let’s drop it here. In any case, we can all agree that Elric’s presence here is a  _ little _ suspicious right?” Everyone nodded. “Well, we can keep an eye on him, if it turns out that the Unplottables are really working with the Ministry, or Merlin forbid, Voldemort, we can go tell Dumbledore and he’ll sort it out. If they’re not...” Harry shrugged. “Well, then they’re not.” Ron jabbed him in the ribs, causing Harry to glare at him, to which Ron pointed at the window. 

“Looks like Malfoy and his mates.” He said bluntly. “Wonder if he made Prefect, well, even if he did, I’m sure he probably had his dad pay Snape or something to even get it.” No one spoke in the carriage (though Hermione cast a baleful glare at Ron, likely peeved at his disrespect of Snape, not that Harry could blame his friend), certain that if Malfoy was outside he wouldn’t be able to resist and would burst in, an insult at the ready to hurl at Ron for “maligning him.” 

“Speaking of Prefects, didn’t you and Hermione make Prefect? I saw the letters… So you should be at the meeting right now, right?” Ginny said, eyes on the bare spot on Hermione and Ron’s chests.

“We did, Dumbledore told us to stay with Harry and Lieutenant Colonel Elric for the train ride just in case.” Hermione said, a light blush on her cheeks. “He said that Professor McGonagall would catch us both up on our Prefect duties once we got to Hogwarts.” Harry once again looked over at Elric, and one of the blond’s questions came to mind as he thought about the situation they were in:

_ If Ron and Hermione didn’t go to the meeting, then they don’t know who their fellow Prefects are right now, which means that much more information missing from what Elric already knows, or at least, what he should know. If Elric was working for the Ministry, he’d surely know who all the Prefects were, but if he was truly on the Order’s side, then he’d only know about Ron and Hermione, if even those two, since they didn’t talk about it much. _

Harry resolved to question Elric about it discreetly if he could on the carriage ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENotes: Writing from Harry’s POV while trying to stay true to his Bk. 5 canon self for me is a lot like trying to wring water out of a stone. In that both are tedious and typically result in a failure with a 1% chance of success if the stars align. Which is why I’m trying to give him more than just the one brain cell he was stuck with in OotP.
> 
> Additionally, I still, to this day, do not understand why HP Canon never really addresses the fact that Ron is from Devon beyond name-dropping St. Ottery Catchpole (which is near Exeter and is predominately Muggle in the books, so I have no idea why Mr. Weasley acts the way he does considering that the family has to have some dealings with their Muggle neighbors on some sort of regular basis, what with their family still needing to eat and all), so I decided to do the work myself and give Ron some bonus characterization based off of that. 
> 
> As for what Luna was doing this whole conversation, she was doing Luna things like being a good Ravenclaw who gathers all the information she can before making an analysis, and it’s totally not because I can’t write her at all, nope.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 5th Prompt: “Unacceptable, try again”
> 
> If this is the first chapter you're seeing, please go back and read the first 4! They've all been rewritten and updated! (12/25/20)
> 
> Hello everyone! I really don't like writing notes like these, but in this case I have to. I originally planned to have these posted in early December, but circumstances out of my control pushed it back just late enough that I had decided to post all revised chapters + a brand new chapter together as a Christmas gift, with a follow-up chapter tomorrow for Boxing Day celebrations. Sadly, I can't follow through with that plan due to some family problems, and I simply don't have the energy to focus on writing right now. I am really sorry that I have to extend my hiatus, and I hope you all understand. I’m almost certain that I should be back in early February, if not before then. Until then, please enjoy the chapters I have prepared for you all, and I hope you all have a Merry Christmas. Stay safe in the meantime!

Ed’s good mood from his stress reliever nap lasted for all of 2 minutes (a brand-new record) before it went down the shitter. Unlike normally however, the decline wasn’t caused by Havoc being Havoc, General Bastard being General Bastard, the press making up whatever novel bullshit they could to sell papers, or even being sent out to do paperwork, no, it was caused by the realization that he had been  _ moved _ . 

While he was thankful that the kids were apparently careful enough to not jostle him awake (which meant that they had used magic, which meant that he had magic  _ performed on him,  _ **_without his consent_ ** ), that thankfulness was throw directly out the window because he hadn’t gotten a chance to survey the fucking area. Even during the Promised Day when spending just a second longer than he was supposed to in an area could have gotten him arrested and then killed in ritual execution, he had  _ still _ surveyed any area they were in for potential threats.

And the  _ kids _ had  _ moved him from the train before he could do any of that _ .

He was tempted to let it slide, he really was. Al never shut up about how high levels of stress meant that his blood pressure would rise and how he didn’t want Ed to have hypertension at the ripe old age of 22. 

But Edward Elric wouldn’t be Edward Elric if he didn’t let the kids know just how much they had fucked up. If they kept on doing shit like this, they were going to get themselves killed, and Ed had been sent on this mission to kill the wizard’s lord vicissitudes  _ not _ to get a bunch of fetuses killed because they were so gung-ho about this shit that they thought they could take on the world.

Discreetly eyeing the kids (and noting that none of them were paying attention to him; these kids had to be the worst kidnappers he’d ever encountered), Ed clapped silently, transmuted his automail to a blunted blade, then sprang up, startling the kids, and allowing Ed to get a hold on one of them— Moon if he recalled correctly— and then levelling a frown on the rest. 

“That was unacceptable, it’s like none of you even know the basics of kidnapping 101! Fucking  _ try harder next time _ , a  _ baby _ could’ve gotten past you daisies. Not a single one of you had an eye on me the entire time, if even a single one of you was paying attention you could’ve knocked me out before I even had a chance to lay a hand on your friend, magic or no magic.” Releasing his fellow blonde, Ed transmuted his automail back, and sat back down. “That’s what you get for not waking me up before moving me by the way, if you’d all come under attack while moving me, I’m sure the Dead Munchers would’ve done a lot worse than scare you all a little.” All the kids were looking at him apprehensively, bar Moon herself, who was simply smiling serenely at him, like she wasn’t just filing away the information for later, but thinking about applying it for later.

He liked her already just for that, at least there was one person in this group of teddy bears that use applied logic.

“W-Well, it’s not as though they can get here anyways!” Smartypants defended. “Hog warts blocks apparition from both the inside and out!” Apparition was the teleportation shit if he recalled correctly, so that explained partially why they didn’t just use  _ that _ to get to the school, but it sure as hell didn’t explain why it had to be a train, and also why said train couldn’t just drop them off at the school itself instead of having them transfer.

Ed had to sincerely wonder if safety was just a cool sounding concept to wizards, because they certainly didn’t seem practically concerned with it at all, leaving aside the minions of lord vae victis, they were in an isolated area, if any the info about this being the only school available for magic kids in this country was  _ true _ , then any random jackass with a penchant for killing and a chip on his shoulder could take them out as the transfer from the train to the carriages was happening. 

The thought made Ed feel sick, but he forced himself to think of the possibility anyways, since just because fuckers like Void were one in a million didn’t mean that they were full on  _ negated _ . He was well aware that being this paranoid was usually something squarely reserved for Hawkeye’s wheelhouse, but borrowing one or two things from her arsenal would only make this mission go  _ so much smoother _ .

It really was a crime that Hawkeye had to stay behind because Mustang was staying behind because then all he would have to do is get the location of lord valediction out of one of his lackeys and he could go back to his research.

Looking out the window, Ed held back a curse when he realized that it was pitch black out. 

“Do you wizards have a grudge against lights or something?” The “safehouse” had been like this too, all grimy and no lighting system he could detect. Hairy, Not-A-Twin, and Smartypants all turned sour looks on him. “What did I say now to offend your delicate sensibilities?”

“They’re simply venting their anger about my previous comment onto you Mr. Elric.” Ed grimaced at the ‘Mr.’ He wasn’t a ‘Mr.’ 

“Elric, no ‘Mister’ shit, and what happened?” He directed the question at Moon, since asking Hairy, Not-A-Twin, or Smartypants seemed like a recipe to get stonewalled. She pointed out the window, and Ed glanced out it before giving her an askance look.

“One of our former professors also works as the Groundskeeper. Normally his hut would still have its lights on, and I commented beforehand that he wasn’t a very good teacher, at least in the view of my classmates.” It was, once again, Ed’s turn for a round of wall-eyed staring. 

“So you’re angry because she doesn’t like a teacher you like?” Barring the fact that Ed and Al hadn’t stepped foot into a ‘normal’ school since they were about  _ 8 and 7 _ respectively, Ed was sure that at 15 he wasn’t about to throw a hissy-fit over a tiny difference in opinion.

“Ha-grid is a great teacher!” Not-A-Twin said hotly, though his sister clearly disagreed somewhat as she winced, and turned her face away. 

“Sounds like that might not be the whole story.” Ed shot back. “Though I’m not here to mediate your fuckin’ squabbles, so let’s get back on track. This carriage takes us up to the school, yeah? No stops?”

“Right.” Hairy grumbled. Ed felt a sudden headache starting to brew, there were so many ways this place could be attacked, even with the teleportation taken out of the equation. Wait, had it even really been taken out of the equation? He turned to Smartypants, who looked as though someone had taken her favorite book and ripped it to shreds in front of her.

“Hey, how far does the stop-your-teleportation-shit go?” She thought for a second, then paled. 

“I… I’m not sure.” So another thing to ask Beardy as soon as he got the chance to do so. As Ed was about to ask another question, like “hey do any of you have a map of this place”, the carriage tumbled to a stop, and the kids all shot each other some impressively shocked looks. Hairy started digging around for something— what, Ed couldn’t figure out since all of their luggage (bar his own suitcase which hadn’t left his grip)— wasn’t here. He seemed to have found what he was looking for, and pulled it up.

Ed frowned. There was  _ nothing _ in his hands, and not in the physical sense. There was an actual patch of  _ dead space _ in Hairy’s hands. By the way the patch moved to his eyes, Ed could tell it was some kind of fabric, or it was at least behaving like how fabric should. Hairy shoved the patch in his face.

“Here, put this on!”

“What the hell is it?”

“It’s my invisibility cloak, now hurry and put it on—” Ed held up a hand to stop him from speaking more. Clearly his appearance here was going to be an unknown to the rest of the student population bar the two new kids on the train. That was fine, Ed had had to work with worse constraints than before. He was more interested in why this ‘invisibility cloak’ thing was basically a void in the fabric of the universe. As he covered himself in it, Ed stiffened.

This shit felt like the Gate. No, not just like the Gate, it felt like it was ready and able to shunt him off to go meet Truth at any second now. 

Well, it wouldn’t have been the first time, and it wasn’t like he had any other choice. Sighing, he slid the rest of the material over his head, and waited for the kids to climb out of the carriage before following.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ed: So what are the rules for magic?  
> Harry: There are rules for magic?  
> Ed: I’ll take my severance check any day now Mustang.
> 
> Yes I know HP Magic has some semblance of the concept of “rules” applied to it (very inconsistent, and nonexistent when it comes to the majority of spellwork, yes, but they do exist), however I live and die by the idea that if the majority of your magic system doesn’t follow the rules you set up then your rules aren’t rules, but technical constraints.
> 
> In that vein, HP Magic doesn’t have any rules beyond: “you gotta say specific words in a specific order to cause an effect” and “you gotta use a wand and move it in a specific motion, unless you’re uber powerful and don’t need that shit”


End file.
